Sightless
by Aranya Ver'Sarn
Summary: Life in Sunspire Port falls back into a rhythm, with the Legion abroad and the port preparing for the worst. Aranya does her part on all fronts, but letting go of dearly departed Captain Kurel An'Diel is not so easy for anyone who knew him. Timeframe: During the war on the Broken Isles against the Burning Legion.


**_Usual Legal Disclaimer:_** Please refer to "DISCLAIMERS SECTION" on my profile.

Characters mentioned belong to mrblaque, crimsynlotus, rizzythemonk, kurel-andiel, and roewyn of tumblr.

 _A couple of lines about the statue were pulled from a post made by mrblaque_

* * *

"This is it, right here!" Aranya proclaimed excitedly.

The sorceress sat just beyond the westernmost waters of the Sunspire harbor with two of Blaque's port hands in the longboat that Riz had appropriated for her - the one that had been _meant_ for practice weaving shadow runes and seeing if Kurel could perceive them well enough, or if they lasted, until she mastered them and could then work them on the Vengeance and the blind captain's cabin.

The last of the four miniature runestones that Aranya had designed for the port was in the boat with them, and the runic design that had been carved into it had suddenly changed from glowing blue to white.

"See?" Aranya pointed out to the hands. "Perfect alignment with North, East, and South. Just like a compass."

The two men seemed properly impressed and delighted. "You really weren't pulling our ears about these stones," one remarked. "Over the side with it then?"

"Mhm," nodded Aranya. "But once it's at the bottom, we'll have to dive down to be sure that the placement is still right, and adjust it if it's shifted."

"Understood, Miss Ver'Sarn," was the reply, and so saying, the two men secured rope-lines around the stone - as expertly as any makeshift anchor they'd ever made - hoisted it up to the rim of the longboat and pushed it over the side, straining with the rope that they both held to keep the lowering of the stone's descent as steady as possible. When the rope finally gave no more pull, the men stripped down to their pants, while Aranya took off belt, boots, and robes, and was soon in only her shirt and leggings.

Over the sides the three of them dove.

As predicted, the position of the runestone had moved slightly with the imprecision of lowering it to an unseen point by rope and the motion of the water. Its design now glowed blue once more.

Aranya closed her burning green eyes and shifted her awareness from the physical feelings of cold water pressing all around her body and the sound of the ocean's flow in her long, pointed ears, to what she could feel and sense magically. In particular, she payed attention to the now-altered flow of magic in and around the port with the other three runestones in place, and sensed for the gap where the fourth should be to complete the balance of the circle.

The port hands treaded water and awaited direction from the arcanist.

It didn't take more than a moment for Aranya to open her eyes again and swim to the side of the stone. She pointed at it and then made motions with her hands to move it _this_ way. The two men swam to either side of the stone and began pushing it as the mage directed, and did not stop until she had put up her hands to tell them that that was far enough. They couldn't resist looking to see the rune's white glow again before they all surfaced for air.

* * *

Back at the docks, Aranya walked with her robe and belt slung over one slender arm, and carried her boots in the opposite hand. She was dripping wet, but hardly cared much at all.

Another task done.

The original intention for the runestones' necessity was gone - died with Kurel - but the fact that the runestone system would still have long-term benefit for the port, beyond its original need, was some small kind of comfort. The port gained, as did Aranya, and it was win-win.

One less layer of defense and fortification that Purveyor Blaque would have to worry about, too, and Aranya made a mental note to tell him about it when she saw him later. The purveyor had presented another task for the arcanist, but sundry affairs with the port (on Blaque's part) and Dalaran (on Aranya's) had made it practically impossible to discuss further with him. He wanted a portal network, and while Aranya's knowledge of free-standing portals and leyline travel was a little rusty, it was nothing she couldn't refresh - or even _refine,_ with what she was learning around the Broken Isles.

Aranya passed Saeris as she strode through the town, with Nara at his side, sporting the enchanted collar that she had made for the she-wolf. The mage waved to him. Saeris waved back, but his smile when he did so didn't quite reach his eyes, and once again the arcanist found herself wondering with concern for the new captain of the Vengeance.

As she neared the center of town, the sorceress slowed her pace to look upon the statue that had appeared since the previous night, staring out into the port town with the same swagger and demeanor its muse held in life. Placed on the front, a small golden plaque read: _"In life, he sought to keep the Port free. In death, he will do the same. May the fallen protect us as they always have."_

A slow, heavy breath filled Aranya's lungs and then flowed out of her, and the world fell away as she became lost in thought, staring at the statue of Kurel An'Diel.

 _Wake up…_

She had done as his last letter to her had suggested, sought out the Scions of Antiquity, and found herself in better spirits and in good company since finding that they were of the same mind as she.

Korrigan had seemed encouraged when Aranya showed him and Demytrya the box containing the Nethersoul rings that she had made. Four rings, carved from flawless arcane crystal, and imbued in the heart of the Netherstorm itself, with the wild powers of the ether-lightning that flashed across the wastes. The undertaking had happened years ago, and it could have killed her, or shattered the crystal rings and made the endeavor all for nothing, but it was ultimately a risk worth taking. Aranya had explained how they could greatly amplify magic, and Korrigan not only agreed that they would be useful, but expressed gladness in her lending of efforts and power to the Scions.

Demytrya had been especially hopeful when Aranya mentioned what had happened to her while she lay unconscious for days after her recent battle-injuries.

 _Wake up, Aranya…_

She still recalled the memory of Kurel's voice in her mind, but had heard nothing again since it happened. Whatever patch of oblivion his spirit had found hers in, he had thought it unbefitting enough to nudge her out of it, keep her from embracing it, but no more than that.

Aranya slowly came 'round from her thoughts to huff a soft little snort to herself, shaking her head. "It's funny, _you're_ the one without eyes," she addressed the statue. "You wanted me to weave the runes to help you see," she said. "But it feels like _I'm_ the one who's walking blind."


End file.
